OWNED_Satan’s Kin MC

by April Lust

  I shrug at my men and point them towards the grate. They enter one by one until I’m the only one left. There’s a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach telling me to leave, to go back home to Natalia so I can grasp her in my arms and take her any way she wants.

  I glance at my phone, but there aren’t any new messages. The coast seems clear. Not a soul enters from either side of the street. It’s my turn to disappear into the grate, to follow Maya down whatever dark path she’s decided to take us on.

  When I reach the bottom, I notice I’m standing before an enormous, dimly lit hallway. There are small, golden orbs lining the walls, reminiscent of a vintage movie theatre. I follow the line of my men, their broad shoulders swaying back and forth from the movement. I see Maya at the head, her high heels putting her at equal height with my boys.

  The tunnel feeds into a poker room filled with half-empty martini glasses and grumpy old men. There are handfuls of electric women wearing cocktail dresses, their hair in pin curls. I feel as though I’ve walked into a bar straight out of the ‘40s. I start to think I’m poorly dressed, but I can’t waste time with such thoughts. All I can think about is that I’m close to Abram – that this is the night.

  There’s a live band playing swing music and I wonder how anyone can hear each other over the noise. They’re certainly cheating, especially when it comes to blackjack. I see numerous men with cards slipping out of their sleeves, aces and kings smuggled in from look-alike decks.

  Maya leans close. Her breath smells like cigarettes and whiskey, and she’s wearing a dark, exotic perfume. When she whispers to me, her lips barely move. “Abram likes to play in one of the royal rooms. The buy-in is five grand.”

  “Christ,” I mutter. Even if I had all my drug mules in one room we probably wouldn’t be able to amass that much money between us. Then again, we’re low on drugs and overall enthusiasm these days.

  Maya leads us down another hallway, this one winding and filled with stark white busts. I see Lincoln, Washington, and Jefferson. At the very end is Teddy Roosevelt. I imagine his bust being at the head has something to do with his previous donations to the museum. His hunting skills were incredible.

  “Right through here,” Maya says, leading us to another hallway. She tells us Abram is playing in one of the rooms and that all she’s going to tell us no matter how much more money we throw in her direction. I’m irritated, but not really surprised. She doesn’t want Abram to come after her if he finds out she spied for us.

  “Great.” Doc throws up his arms in obvious frustration, walking over towards me with an irritated scowl on his face. “Where the hell is the guy? He can’t be too far. I heard he was unarmed.”

  “He is unarmed.” I nod, confirming the information given to me earlier. I could be wrong, though. Abram could be carrying. Which is why I’ve got a pistol and a knife hidden in the lining of my coat. If I keep my wits about me, I’ll be able to take him head on. If not, I’ll have to say goodbye to my life and to my men.

  And to Natalia , I realize.

  Suddenly, a door swings open and Abram steps out smirking. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Samuels. You had a good run, but you see,” he pauses to kick a piece of trash out of his pathway, “you’re just not as smart as you think you are. I’m going to miss meeting you like this, but I’m a family man now.”

  My stomach drops, and I feel sick. I know my expression probably makes me look like a complete dumbass, but I fucked up. I was played. Maya must have been lying to me when she said she wanted Abram killed. He probably didn’t murder her sister—Christ, I bet she doesn’t even have a sister. That bitch! Before I can say anything to Abram, he starts speaking again.

  “Natalia and I are going to be very happy together, and I want to thank you for reuniting us. For that, your death will be quick and painless. Goodbye, Mr. Samuels.”

  He steps out of the way to reveal a man brandishing an AK-47. That’s when things begin to move in slow motion. I scream at my men to move, and we start running chaotically down the hall, bullets flying behind us. I hear a sickening thud as a body hits the floor, but Doc screams in my ear to keep moving. We find a staircase and run out, our footsteps pounding like a stampede. Before long we reach the second floor, where only a few inches of concrete separate us from the museum.

  “How the hell do we get out of this place? It’s like a fucking maze in here! I don’t know which one of my men is shouting, and I’m too panicked to look behind me and check.

  Finally, ahead, I see an exit. “Come on! There’s an exit ahead!” I shout. I hope there are enough men behind me that they can back me up.

  A bullet flies past my ear and pierces a vase, shattering it instantly. I dive towards a door, crashing through with such force that there’s a moment of numbness before the pain hits. When it does, my arm’s throbbing like nothing before, and I realize with profound shock that I’ve very likely broken it. But I can’t stop and check, or even take the time to look down. There’s no time for that.

  We keep running up the staircase until it leads us to a very slim door. It’s so slim that I’m not sure I’ll be able to fit through it. But I manage only to find my eyes assaulted by blue light.

  Is this heaven? Or hell?

  It turns out it’s neither. We’re not in some sort of Dante-esque afterlife, but the blue whale room of the museum. The walls are clear glass with life-size models of whales suspended in the air by fishing line. Directly in front of me is the largest animal I’ve ever seen.

  I know we’ve got to get out of here and back to headquarters as soon as possible. The adrenaline is still pumping furiously through my body, but I can’t help feeling disappointed. I was so sure – so desperately positive – that tonight would be the night we got Abram.

  I’m not looking forward to facing Natalia when I get home. I know she’s going stir-crazy cooped up in the warehouse. I just hope she doesn’t try to escape while we were gone.

  Chapter 18 Beast

  The illumination of the blue lights makes me shiver, even though the room isn’t cold. With adrenaline coursing through my veins, every sound and feeling is heightened, and the sound of air pumping through the vents sounds like the wave of a tsunami crashing over and over onto the beach.

  “Where to?” Doc whispers. Behind us, we hear gunshots.

  “Let’s go to the mineral room,” I whisper. “It’s dark there. We might be able to hide out in one of the rooms until they leave. Where is everyone else?”

  Doc hangs his head low and says nothing. I do a quick head count. I can’t believe it—we’ve lost seven men already?

  There are eight of us in the room, each quietly shuffling our feet around. I was told Abram would be unarmed. Obviously, that was a lie, and one I believed with such ease. But it’s my fault, and I take full responsibility. Abram’s never arrived anywhere without, at least, a Colt-45 on his person. And now we’re being chased after with AK-47s, which is just perfect.

  I’ve got a few smoke bombs in my jacket, but only enough to get us out of the museum. I don’t want to use them unless I absolutely must.

  We follow the signs and wind our way through the museum. Doc nods towards a separate hallway, and I nod back.

  Soon we’re running past fossils and skeletons of our human ancestors. The men become taller and their bones become straighter as we got though time. The spotlights accentuate the yellow hue of the bones, and I imagine what my body and bones would look like rotting in a shallow grave somewhere or at the bottom of the Hudson if Abram catches me tonight. Then my mind turns to Natalia. What would she think if I were found dead somewhere? Would she care? Would she cry? Would she mourn the loss of a life with me, however dangerous that life would be?

  With a sigh, I shake my head. I can’t keep dreaming like this. Natalia’s got her own life, and I know she’s going to want it back as soon as this is all over. She’s not gonna want a damned thing to do with me. I can’t blame her for that, not even a little bit.

  We’ll reac
h the mineral room soon, but not soon enough. I hear another grouping of footsteps from behind us. There’s a female voice, too – when I realize it’s Maya, my blood runs cold. Hasn’t this bitch fucked with me enough already? Doesn’t she realize what’s going to happen to her if she keeps fucking with the Renegade Reapers?

  “Beast!” she’s shouting, trying to deceive me for the second time this day. I’m not going to let it happen. She can choke, let her body be torn apart by Abram’s bullets. Her endless deception is unforgiveable.

  “What are they doing to her?” Doc asks. “She’s screaming pretty loudly.”

  “She’s fine,” I respond coldly. “I don’t trust her enough to save her.”

  Doc just stares. I can’t tell what he’s feeling – if it’s empathy or something darker. Or, perhaps, he’s just feeling sorry for me because I’ve lost the last shreds of my humanity. Either way, I ignore him.

  “We need to get a move on,” he says. “They’re coming for us.”

  We pass through the dark room exhibiting meteorites that have traveled light-years through space only to fall on our planet and wind up in a glass box in New York. Quietly, we enter the Hall of Minerals. It’s covered in velvet carpeting and low lighting. The carpeted sections are decorated with boulder-sized amethysts. Each edge of the hallway feeds out into a dark room with a projector in the ceiling.

  I remember being young and coming here on school field trips. While the others were busy eating dinosaur cookies in the cafeteria, I would come to the mineral room and watch movies about stalagmites and diamonds, falling asleep to the soothing sound of an older woman’s voice. It’s been years since I’ve been here, but something about it still feels like home.

  With Abram’s guys close behind us, we hide in every nook and shadow available and wait. I hold my breath as I see people running past the doorway, glowing lights on their bodies. I’m not sure what they are—I figure it’s some sort of flashlight or cellphone light.

  As I slowly let out my breath, I hear heavy, slow footsteps enter the room. The man walks right by me and pauses to listen. Resting in my pocket is a packet of smoke bombs. I only have a few left, so I’ve got to make them count. If I throw one now, it would alert him to our presence here. I decide to bide my time and hope he leaves. He takes so long that I start to panic. Should I attack now?

  I slowly wrap my hand around the handle of my knife, and I’m ready to strike. I quietly lift it to bring it down on his foot, when he turns and walks out of the room. I sigh in relief, and I can imagine the other guys feel the same. Now, it’s time to regroup and strike back.

  Chapter 19 Natalia

  There’s a dead guy on the couch. I have no idea what to do now, so I pick the lock and climb into Beast’s bed. Just as I’m about to fall asleep, there’s a loud crash from the end of the hallway that makes my blood run cold. I thought all the intruders left.

  “Hey! Girly!” An unfamiliar man steps into the doorway. “Come here.”

  “No!” My voice is uncertain and shaky. I stand up and try to take a step backwards into the corner, but my feet twist together and I fall in a graceless lump on the floor.

  “If you come with me quietly, we won’t have an issue,” says the man standing in front of me.

  He’s young, too young to be doing something like this. I want to try to negotiate with him, but he’s got an AK-47 cradled in his arms.

  “Why should I?” I ask, my voice wavering, though I know we both already know the answer to that.

  He narrows his eyes at me and points at my feet with the gun. “Let’s go,” he says. “Before the others arrive. They’re not going to be as nice as I am.” He eyes me from head to toe. I’m still clad in just my panties and Beast’s wifebeater. “You got a coat?”

  I nod.

  “Get that, and come with me.”

  Scrambling to my feet, I nod and run down the hall, desperately thinking of a way to escape. The window in my room is too small, and while it doesn’t have bars over the glass, I’m not sure I’d be able to wriggle my way out in time. My legs are shaking and my hands feel like blocks of ice as I walk into my room and pluck my coat from the chair. I grab a pair of sweatpants off the floor and clumsily throw them on, nearly falling over in the process. The satin lining of my coat chills my bare skin, but I belt it tightly around my waist and walk back on jelly legs towards the great room.

  The man gestures for me to come with him. With a glance around the room, I sigh and follow him out the open door, noticing a light blanket of snow is covering the road. It seals ice over rocks and scattered bricks. I look out at the streets and notice handfuls of cars left to rot in the cold weather. This is the first time I’ve stepped outside of the warehouse in weeks, and it’s colder now than it was when Beast kidnapped me. I wrap my coat snugly around my waist and pray the snow will stop, that spring will come soon. That Beast will find me before it’s too late.

  I’ve never been a fan of the winter.

  We get onto a sleek black motorcycle, and he drives me briefly to another broken-down warehouse. I’m reminded of the only time I’d been on a bike with Beast. It feels like a lifetime ago.

  The man has scruffy facial hair and a single silver earring in his left ear. The second I see him I fall in love—only a little bit, only ever so slightly. But enough to make me intrigued by him. He’s got less presence than Beast, but there’s something quite alluring about him. I wonder if this is my life now – passed from gang to gang, until one of the men finally gets sick of me and shoots me.

  The man stares at me. There’s an odd look in his eyes. When we’re finally inside the warehouse, he turns to me and surveys my body from head to toe. It’s not exactly a sexual look, but I can’t deny that the attention is flattering.

  God, what is wrong with me? I’ve just been kidnapped for the second time in the past month, and I’m already thinking about what it would be like to sleep with this guy.

  He goes to the fridge and gets two glasses of water. He gives the one to me, and he sees me hesitate, looking uncertainly at the glass in my hand. He scoffs before taking a sip of his, and I’m so thirsty that I down it in two gulps. He laughs and finishes his drink.

  After putting down my glass, I notice my kidnapper’s breathing sounds forced and his pupils are dilated. One hand is in his pocket and the other is clutching the inside of his jacket. I assume he’s holding on tight to the gun he showed me shortly before ordering me to put on my coat and follow him into the night.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he says.

  I know I must look terrified. My heart is pounding in my chest like a drum and my skin hasn’t warmed, even though it’s not cold in the warehouse. I feel like my brain is going to shut down from everything that’s happened. “If you’re not going to hurt me, why are you clutching that?”

  He takes his hand off his gun and presses it to his stomach. He then shakily shows it to me. It’s bright red and covered in his own blood.

  “Oh,” I whisper, unable to say anything else. By now, I should be used to seeing blood. I’ve had to fix up Beast multiple times over the past few weeks, but the sight of this man’s blood sends a new chill of fear down my spine. “When did you get shot?”

  The man’s eyes roll back in his head, and he clutches the wall, dropping his gun to the floor. “When we were riding…there was…someone following us.”

  I walk over to him and glance at the wound. Dark red blood is gushing from his stomach, and he’s shaky. His skin is covered in a fine layer of sweat, and when I touch his forehead, it’s cold and clammy.

  “I need a hospital,” he says, his voice lowering to a whisper. I can tell his pain level is increasing. He’s gripping his side harder, and his eyes are now swimming with jet-black pupils. He’s probably got a fever, and his cheeks are bright pink. This is not looking good.

  “Yes, you do,” I say. “Come on, I can help you.”

  “You can?”

  “Listen, I’m the stranger around here. But you
just kidnapped me, so I should be the one asking you questions. Unfortunately, we don’t have time. The longer you wait, the lower your chances of survival.”

  “And how do you know how low my chances are?” he asks, suddenly erupting in a coughing fit. A spike of concern stabs me in the gut and for a moment. I’m aching almost as badly as the handsome stranger, bleeding before me.

  “Come on. We’ll get you someplace where you can lie down.” I say with a grunt, as I drag the man down the hall of the unfamiliar warehouse. I wonder where Beast is, when he’ll finally get back to his own home and discover I’ve been kidnapped yet again

  “How do you know all that?” he asks again. “Are you a doctor or something?”

  “Yes,” I say sarcastically, fumbling with the first door I see. “I’m a doctor.”

  In the center of the room I find a bed and a chair with a nightstand in the center. I help him onto the bed, careful not to brush against his right side. As I lift his coat, his face screws up in pain, but I can tell he’s determined not to show me that.